The First One
by disneyqueen
Summary: Disney movie based, At the beginning, Frollo chased after the young gypsy, but was it from his loathing of her kind or was it the secret they both kept hidden, until know.


**Here's my first hunchback fanfiction. It's basically the beginning scene of the Disney movie with in Alternate Universe kind of on the hunchback's mother. It was a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone and I just felt like it had to be written. so here it is. I own NOTHING, but the idea and the names, since most gypsies at the beginning were naemless. I hope you enjoy. **

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Everything was still, as though the city held its breath. The harsh winter breeze swept through the small river channels as large pieces of remaining ice was brushed away from the boat floated beneath bridges. Ice seeped through her dark purple tunic; her arms shivering as she held the small, crying bundle tighter to her bosom.

A quiet, impatient voice ordered, "shut it up, before we're spotted."

"Shh, hush ma petite," she cooed through the think blanket.

Small, strong hands toyed with the stray locks of her darkened locks, with an innocence of the terror twisting deep within his mothers' stomach.

"Leala, do not fear. We're almost there," her companion whispered.

His hot breath tickled her ear and neck as she leaned against him; a gloved hand wrapped securely around her shoulders. Dulled gold earrings hung limp against her bare cheek as her gaze drifted up to the darkened sky. Even through the darkness, she felt at peace within the familiar surroundings of her childhood home, _had it only been two years that she had left?_

She sighed and even the dangers of the frozen river just beneath her feet seemed far away. Her child shifted within her arms even as her grip tightened.

Righting herself, she stared at her companion; the silence and solemn features seemed to unnerve her, even with his arm around her remained certain. She remembered days from her childhood of her father holding the same posture in the darkness, the most uncertain time of the day for all gypsies. Her mouth opened, but was cut off as he stood and moved forward on the boat. She blinked and grabbed at his arm before his darkened gaze bore into her.

"Why have we stopped, Uncle Acelin?" she asked, searching his face for an answer.

He remained silent and moved further away from her and out onto solid earth. Quickly, Acelin turned and extended his out to help her out. Leala adjusted the bundle higher up and accepted the hand as she slid closer to the shore. Shivers crawled down her spine as her bare feet crushed the snow.

"Ten francs for safe accompany to the-"

The caption was cut off as an arrow shot the oar only inches from his head. The small company saw the outlines of four guards beneath another bridge. Before a single word could be uttered the group was surrounded. Spears and swords pinned the escort between them and the frozen river behind them. Acelin pushed Leala behind him in protection, but deep, heavy hoofs broke the silence from the right. Leala felt her child begin to wriggle his hands against her shoulder, but she held him still.

From beside her, Acelin uttered, "Judge Claude Frollo!"

Her breath caught in her throat as she whipped her head around; even the distant shadow caused her heart to stop cold. Claude Frollo rode into the small company; his eyes scanning the pitiful gypsies. His steel gaze rested upon the women for a fraction longer and their eyes locked. Leala felt Acelin cradle her in his arms as he glared at the judge, but Leala felt her blood run cold. Behind the cold glare, recollection flashed through before turning to ice.

_He does remember_, she thought as she broke the connection. _Not now, good lord not now_ she prayed silently.

Suddenly, she felt her uncle ripped from her arms; the chains jiggling in the firm grip of one of the guards. Iron slammed against the gloved wrists as he glanced over at his niece. A single word sweeping through his gaze at her, run. Leala felt her feet moving to the side; adrenalin pulsing through her legs, but a firm grip seized her arm yanking her back.

"Where are you going?" a guard asked; his gloved fingers digging into her flesh.

Leala couldn't even think as she felt her child slid within her arms. Quickly, she adjusted her arms beneath the bundle; her terrified gaze drifting over to the judge. Frollo watched with distain as the other gypsies were carted away through the chilly evening. The guard spun Leala into him; their bodies almost pressed together.

"What are you hiding?" he yelled into her ear. Her breath caught in her throat as she fought to look anywhere but at her captor.

"Stolen goods, no doubt," Frollo said, a bitter laugh escaping him. "Take them from her!" he ordered; his gaze boring into her like knifes.

Suddenly, the guard released her and collapsed onto the ground as a moan escaped his lips. Three guards started after the prisoner, but Frollo held up his hand.

"No, this one's mine," he said, pressing his legs harder into his horse.

Darting into the distance, he gave chase to the women. Even from the darkness, he knew her shadow and he heard her deep panting through the silence. The city streets were deserted in the dead of night, everyone asleep and unaware of the chase just beyond their doors.

Leala darted down allies and through small ducts; the deep hoof beats pounding in her ears. She felt his steel gaze bear into her; her body exposed through the thin tunic as the wind blew the shawl from around her head. Cold wind bit at her face as she quickened her pace; the bundle cradled within her grasp…her endangered son.

Jumping over a small gate into another alley, she heard his distant voice call out onto the wind. "You can't escape me, damned witch."

She ignored him and clutched her son to her bosom; a faint glint of hope was in sight, the grand cathedral of Notre Dame. She ran up the stone steps and pounded on the large oak doors just as fresh new snow began to fall around her. Her voice felt soar and horse as she screamed for safety.

Hoof beats caught her of guard as his horse jumped over the steps and only a few feet from her. In desperation, she turned and ran further down the path, but the fresh snow bit into her ankles. A firm, rough hand swung down and grabbed the bundle from her grasp; her fingers enclosed within his as their eyes locked once more.

Her name was parched upon his lips, but he dared not utter it as her bear skin sent chills down his spine. He remembered her body beneath his; the curves of her body as she leaned into him, willingly giving herself to him. Her sweet breath tricking against his ear as damned words of sweet of affection slipped from her pink jeweled lips.

Suddenly, he saw her leaving him behind and he thought never to return. In a rage, he kicked her away; her feet stumbling as her head hit the cold stone steps. Woken up, the bundle in his grasp began to wail for his lost mother.

"A baby?" he asked, but upon closer inspection, "a monster!"

A shiver ran down his spine as he searched in the darkness for a quick deposer. In the distance, a basket attached to a well swung on a rusted iron hinge. Frollo was just about to toss the creature away when a deep, crisp voice screamed out into the night. "STOP!"

Frollo swung his head around to face the high priest. Craddling the bundle back, he said, "This is an unholy demon, I'm sending it back to the depths of hell."

"What is the meaning for this?" the high persist asked, staring down at the innocent women.

Frollo shook his head and walked back over towards the pair. He watched as the high persist picked up the fragile body within his arms; even from a distance, he wanted to hold the gypsy in his own arms. Yet, she had betrayed him as well.

"I have done nothing wrong, she ran," he said, a stern gaze lingered upon the beautiful gypsy devil.

"You can lie to your minions and yourself, but in the eyes of the lord, you're never free, not even you," the high persist said calmly.

Frollo glanced away and stared up into the towers of the cathedral and towards the darkened sky above. Would the lord know of his treason, the result was snuggled up in his arms; a cruel devil's work from Leala's womb.

Shaking his head, he asked, "What must I do?"

"Care for the child and raise it as your own," was the simple answer.

Frollo bite back a hollow laugh at the cursed irony and nodded. "Very well, but let him leave here…," after a moment's thought, "In the bell tower."

The high persist nodded in agreement and ordered the judge inside. Frollo followed, but the bundle, the son was starting to stir and stared back up at him. Those damned bluish brown eyes of his mother, of Leala, the damned witch, stared back at him as he entered the cathedral.

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**Well what did you think? Please review, no flames, but constructive crisasuim is fine and this is a ONE SHORT so don't ask for updates. Just what did you think of it and please be as detailed as possible. Thanks!**


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